Why you should consider a flotation tank

Float pod

Today is a repost of a story I wrote for a lifestyle blog while working for a healthcare company; the original post is here (Actively Northwest, May 4, 2014). Many of my previous posts are no longer live on the original site, so for posterity, posting the content below. I'm still passionate about floating, and recently signed up for a membership at FloatSeattle. 

Float your way to relaxation

Flotation tanks are making a come-back, and they’re great for relaxing and improving focus.

As a kid, I’d lay in the grass on a warm summer day, look at the billowy shapes above, and wonder what it would feel like to float on a cloud.

Flotation is the next best thing.

What is flotation?

I can’t help but hum Also Sprach Zarathustra when entering a float center – the “pod” looks like something out of 2001-A Space Odyssey. First introduced to the public in the early 1970s, flotation was developed by neuropsychologist John Lilly in the 1950s to examine the impact of sensory deprivation on the brain. 

Several modifications later, today, a typical “float center” has several private rooms with a shower and the sci-fi looking pod, which is filled with body temperature water and a high concentration of Epsom-salt (along with a dash of chlorine for safety). Floating fell out of favor during the 1990s, but is gaining momentum again as people look for ways to power down and unplug.

Why do it?

Today, flotation tanks today are largely used for relaxation. But numerous health benefits are also cited, from lowering blood pressure and cortisol levels to pain relief. Endorphins released from the anti-gravity effect are said to be mood-elevating, and some people use flotation to improve focus and for visualization. Some studies say flotation helps with depression and sleep disorders, in addition to stress reduction.  

In previous posts, I’ve mentioned the hamster wheel in my head. I haven’t mentioned that I also constantly fidget – I twirl my hair, tap my foot, crack my knuckles… Inside a float tank, I can’t do anything. It’s just me, alone with my thoughts, and my breath (which at first, seems very, very loud). There is no stimulus. I can’t fidget. There are no distractions.

What’s it like?

While my first float was more years ago than I’m willing to admit, I’ll own up to feeling edgy as I drove to Seattle’s Urban Float in Fremont (editor's note: this location is now closed). The kind of stillness I expect makes me nervous. But Urban Float is a delight to enter, and my private room is warm and comfortable. 

After showering (and they have Everyday Shea products, so no harsh chemicals), stepping into the pod feels like a soft caress – just 10” or so deep, the temperature of the water is perfect. I choose not to have music (earplugs help block external sound and keep the salt out of my ears) and after closing the lid, I turn off the soft blue light from inside the pod. Then… nothing. Well, a little bit of itching. And incessant thinking. 

But eventually, even my brain slows down, the itching stops, and I relax. I am weightless. It’s a lot like meditation without any effort. It’s nearly complete sensory deprivation, and yet I feel completely supported.

An hour goes by and it feels both too short and at times, too long. Ambient music plays five minutes before my time is up.

My takeaway at the end of my hour? “My body is amazing. Everything functions impeccably. I am completely supported.” I hadn’t planned on a new mantra, but I kind of like this one. I feel toxin-free (in addition to buoyancy, the salt pulls toxins away from the body) and very relaxed.

Urban Float provides everything you need – shower products, towels, earplugs. There’s a hairdryer in the one bathroom (perhaps the only drawback is there’s only one loo). An upstairs lounge – for before and after your float – has filtered water or hot tea, with low lighting and comfortable furnishings. It’s a good idea to sit a bit before heading out.

The impact of floating can last for days. I breathe easier, and my body flows a little more smoothly. My daily 60seconds of mindfulness come easily and effortlessly.

Give it a try

Flotation centers are popping up all over. In Seattle, we have Urban Float and Float Seattle (editor's note: my current favorite, with three locations in greater Seattle), and in Tacoma, Northwest Float Center. In Portland, there’s The Float Shoppe. North of the border, the Float House recently opened in Victoria and Vancouver.

If you like this post or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

Managing expectations, dealing with disappointment... and the stories they trigger

I should be on a plane to Singapore on Friday. A relatively short trip - just over a week, but an opportunity to see Forrest after six months apart and explore an intriguing destination together - a place I've read about, heard about, thought about, and wanted to visit for a long time. Ideally, a longer trip would encompass travel to other destinations in the area: various parts of Thailand, Vietnam, Bali, Kuala Lumpur... to name just a few. But I was so looking forward to this trip, regardless. To seeing Forrest, to going somewhere I've never been, to vacation time, to play time, hanging out, laughing... something I'm currently in need of.

I bought my ticket on April 1. I waited until Forrest confirmed the ship he's on would be in port on the scheduled dates with no change in plans. But still it wasn't meant to be - the shipping line decided last minute on a cost saving measure, anchoring in international waters with no 'launch' service - meaning the crew can't go ashore. I cancelled my flight on April 9. I don't think I have words that are any better than his, so you can read his blog post here.

This was quite a letdown - one of many since his flight left Seattle October 17, albeit the biggest. Our communication options have been terrible - before he signed on, we thought "modern shipping line - no problem." We expected we'd have internet, Skype, email... Instead, we've had horrible satellite phone conversations - bad connections, delays, disconnections... And email is sent and received from the ship once a day to his crew email address. When he's in port, he has SIM cards that allow him to make and receive calls from his cell phone, and gives him internet access - when they work. We thought we'd be able to meet in a port or two - we planned to meet in Savannah in December before he started his second Atlantic crossing to Gibraltar and points beyond. But the ship's schedule changed.

This last disappointment triggered a lot of old stories and beliefs about my self worth, what I can have, what I deserve, whether my life matters or works, and if I should even be here (I'm really not being dramatic - I grew up with this crap in the recesses of my brain... and there's a bit more to this story: I have guidebook after guidebook of places I've planned to visit and have only managed to get to a minute few over a vast number of years). It feels unfair.

These are all interesting things to notice. The stories don't run me anymore, and they rarely even make an appearance. And when they do, they don't stay very long. Awareness is key. I now know these are stories that were developed from events, experiences, and other people's perspectives - and they aren't true. But they were part of my inner dialogue for so long that at low points, when I'm least prepared, they come back in a flash and nearly blindside me.

What shifts me away and into a better place? After awareness comes acceptance and compassion. Seriously, compassion for myself had to be one of the hardest things I've had to learn, but the choice is really simple. Now that I can see the difference, it's really the only choice.

Because I know the old stories aren't true and I can put perspective around the feelings, I can more quickly see beyond my immediate sadness and disappointment. Practicing compassion helps me move toward self empowerment. Forrest will be home in just over five weeks. One day, I will make travel happen and I will go to the places I've dreamed about for so long because I know how to do things differently now and make different choices (I did actually buy this ticket, didn't I? That's a step closer!). Together, Forrest and I have been laying a foundation to create these opportunities, and this is merely a minor setback. Really.

This too shall pass. And as I have been reminded, all things do seem to happen for a reason and at some point, that reason will likely be apparent. I'll stay open and see what shows up.

Meanwhile, I'm hitting my reset button and giving myself plenty of room. At the beach.


Update 4/12/13: While not particularly relevant, it did make me laugh about 'being triggered.'

Finding wellness in Vancouver

This year marked the 21st year of The Wellness Show in Vancouver, BC. For the third year in a row, I've made the trip north to see a friend who manages the cooking stage, and find out what's new in the world of wellness. It's hard to believe it was 20 years ago I worked on the show's marketing copy, and the changes I've experienced over those two decades.

My wellness journey started in my mid-20s when I came to the realization that lifestyle trumps genetics. I made significant changes that I've built on and refined ever since. From fitness to food, it all matters. We are our own best health plan. Information changes over time with more research and experimentation, though, so gut sense - literal and figurative - plays a part. Events like The Wellness Show help educate a general audience, introduce new products, pathways and techniques to the tried and true, and remind us that there are no shortcuts to health, much as we'd like them. 


The antitheses to healthy eating: Leaving the convention center on Sunday,
I walked by this food truck. I noticed their restaurant on Robson Street
while up for the show last year. Hardly a health food, I couldn't resist
the photo. It's a food trend I just don't understand.
And I hear they're everywhere!

While I didn't attend any of the workshops or seminars, I learned a lot just walking the aisles and talking with vendors. A few of the key things I learned or noticed this year:

• Coconut is everywhere - from crunchy chips to organic milk, to face creams and good-for-you candy bars. It's the latest trend and while I have been a coconut fan for years (I both cook with and use the oil on my skin as a night cream, add flakes to my breakfast cereal, and I adore coconut curries - and dare I say it? As a kid, I loved Almond Joy candy bars and just about anything coconut...), I worry about resource depletion once something finds its way into our obsessive culture.
• "Raw" chocolate bars are chalky and bitter and not yet worth the cost.
• Nordic Naturals fish oil is an easy access product that I can feel good about buying. However, a wallet-sized card I picked up lets me know which fish are the most contaminated and over-fished. It leaves just a small list of what I can feel good about eating.
• Nature's Path rocks my world. I love their products. They sponsor the show and promise not to sell out to a major corporation like so many other good brands.
• Natural cosmetics are improving. Except mascara (for me). And if you're in the northwest and local is your thing, Lavera and Benecos are based in Kirkland. And for those who have more luck than I do with products, Lavera mascara is apparently rated the best in the natural cosmetics world. 
• Coffee with mushrooms tastes fine, but I didn't notice a kick. Tea is a burgeoning health trend.
• For the lactose intolerant, naturally aged cheese is your friend. A raw milk cheese vendor explained that cheese aged over time loses its lactose, but most cheese bought in supermarkets is quickly processed. 
• Pets need healthy products, too, and there's no shortage. From wet and dry food to natural supplements, it's available. Grain-free for cats is the way to go (I didn't ask about dogs). 
• I'm not crazy about what's traditionally considered "health food." And I'm never going to be vegan. The vegan cheezcake just didn't do it for me.
• Common Ground magazine is still publishing and this makes me happy. They do a great job of educating their readers about issues of significant importance be they global, national, regional or hyper local.
• Wellness is a body, mind, spirit experience. There is no separation. And there are myriad ways to nurture and satisfy all three.
• Wellness skews female. And most of us want to look young and healthy as long as we can. 

Held at the Vancouver Convention Center on Vancouver's downtown waterfront, even the location says wellness. Across the inlet are the North Shore mountains, what seem like just a hop and a skip away. The Grouse Grind, three ski hills and endless hiking trails await anyone who's fit and ready - no matter the season. And the 1,000 acre Stanley Park is just a few blocks away, with hiking trails throughout and a seawall / cycling / walking path that rings the park.

While I was well on my way to wellness prior to moving to Vancouver, it was during my years there that I notched it up a number of rungs. I fell in love with hiking, sailing, running, and healthy food, and it was living in this clean, coastal city that changed my awareness about environmental practices and living lightly on the planet. Living with a vegetarian (who managed her MS in large part through diet), seeing a naturopath, and starting a regular massage regimen all shifted my perspective about managing my own health.

I wouldn't want to live there again, but it's sure nice to visit. I'm grateful for the friends, the experience, and the greater good that came from it.

Oh - and floating is back! The Float House is opening in April in Vancouver, and a search turned up several float locations in the Vancouver / Seattle / Pacific Northwest region. Long since closed, the Float Zone on Vancouver's 1st Street was a favorite, followed by a tank at Ballard Massage in Seattle, decommissioned years ago. Unless you're claustrophobic, you really must try it sometime - there's nothing like complete sensory deprivation (I'll take mine without music, thanks) for complete relaxation. This may be as close as you'll get to floating on a cloud.

Three deep breaths...

When I was a kid, my grandfather would stand at the top of the back stairs every morning, look out at the Olympic Mountains, and take three deep breaths. He insisted this was essential for good health. Perhaps it's the deep breathing that let him live to 70, despite being a lifelong smoker. I don't really remember the smoking, but I do remember that back porch ritual. 

Overlooking Puget Sound and
the Olympic Mountains from
Sunset Hill Park.

Breathing is one of those things we shouldn't have to think about. Isn't it about the most natural thing we do? Without oxygen, we'd cease to exist.



Getting enough air isn't easy for all of us. I attempt to breeze through my life as a recovering Type A, but there seems to be a residual pattern of frequent shallow breathing. In addition to pre-behavioral adjustment, I attribute this breathing pattern in large part to perpetual allergies, low-grade, persistent anxiety, and chronic lack of sleep (at least, I hope that's all it is). While I've likely had more than my fair share of stress over the years, relatively speaking, my life is pretty manageable right now. Perhaps breathing badly is learned? Or am I more stressed out than I realize? To get effective breath much of the time, I have to breathe consciously. In through the nose, into the guts, hold, exhale.  

That said, I was reminded of the dangers of stress on our health when Joe Piscatella came to talk with us at work earlier this week. He had heart disease at age 32 and doctors didn't expect him to live past 40. That was 35 years ago. He changed his life: both his diet and exercise routine, and he learned to manage his stress. His book, Don't Eat Your Heart Out, had a significant impact on my diet and attitude when I read it in the mid-80s. He's since written many more and speaks internationally about the affect lifestyle has on our health over genetics. Something I've been spouting since... well, maybe since I read his book.

I have to remember to breathe. Mr. Piscatella offered up a useful exercise that takes my usual breathe in/breathe out attempts a little further. In addition to turning off the television nightly news - should anyone really still watch it - he suggests the following:

Take a deep breathe in through your nose letting your belly expand outward. Hold and pull your abdominal muscles in. Exhale through your mouth over five beats. Repeat.

Trust me - this is much easier than bending over and putting your head between your knees, which I've found myself doing on occasion. Actual "breathwork" has always sounded a little too new agey for me, but I think I may look into it and see what that kind of practice has to offer. Meditation has always been difficult, but if I have a focus like very specific breathing, maybe that'll help.


UPDATE (8/28/12): My naturopath Eva tells me I breathe through my mouth which impacts the quality and quantity of air I take in. It's like miniscule, ongoing hyperventilation, and I also breathe in unfiltered particles and who knows what which leaves me vulnerable to viruses, infections, etc. Not to mention that I just don't get good breaths. So I do need to consciously focus on my breathing; Eva even suggested that if I need to, I could tape my mouth shut. If I'm breathing so hard I can't breathe through my nose, I'm doing too much. Oh - and use the neti pot. Joy.